


tension burning, fever high (tonight the rules do not apply)

by abapical



Series: A Series of Incestuous Events [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Barebacking, Father/Son Incest, Incest, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 13:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2311319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abapical/pseuds/abapical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything goes a few steps further.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tension burning, fever high (tonight the rules do not apply)

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise, this is almost entirely porn! With a side dish of feelings. And gratuitous barebacking.

When Derek tells Stiles in passing that he hasn’t been taking any heat match contracts lately, it knocks the wind out of him. They’re on the preserve and the bite of winter is sharp enough for Derek’s cheeks and nose to be nipped pink. Stiles has been wanting to hop into his arms and kiss him approximately every other minute.

“Hang on, you _what_?” 

Derek shrugs. “My schedule’s been busier than usual lately. It just made sense.” He flashes Stiles one of those knee-weakening grins he’s so good at. “Why, did you have a problem with that?” 

Stiles gives up on words and pounces on him.

He knows he’s being greedy, but he’s always hated the idea of another omega getting all of Derek's kisses and crinkly-eyed smiles and soft reassurances. If _he_ got to draw up Derek's contract, it would be a huge list of ticky boxes. There are a lot of things he wants, and that's not even counting the things he wants Derek to do to his dad so he can live vicariously through him.

There are the innocent things like getting to see them kiss again, or bicker about football, even though Stiles couldn’t care less about it himself. But there are other things too. 

Like. He _desperately_ wants to watch Derek sucking his daddy off. Both because he knows how good Derek is at that, and because he wants to know what his daddy looks and sounds like while it happens.

And then maybe kiss Derek after so he can find out what he tastes like, too. He needs more kisses full stop, he was so heat-drunk last time he can barely remember Derek’s mouth on his.

Stiles’ imagination has always been a dangerous playground. 

These are the things he's been thinking of when he drifts off to sleep in his too-small twin bed.

He's _really_ been feeling the smallness of it lately. There are lots of times when he just imagines being sprawled out in his dad’s nice big bed with them both right there with him. Not even really doing anything, just having that kind of peaceful, natural closeness like when his heat had finally abated. He's hoping that can go on a little longer next time, with Derek not on the clock and with his dad a little less worried about everything. He's been tracking his cycle and it won’t be long now before he ends up in bed with them again.

Once they’d finished their impromptu soul-baring conversation in the living room, he’d really wanted Derek to stay the night but that just didn’t seem like it was going to fly. He _did_ ask his dad to tuck him in after Derek went home, something he hadn't asked for in years. His dad had raised an eyebrow at it but followed Stiles to his room anyway, given him a glass of water and an extra long hug that tightened even more when Stiles murmured _thank you_ against his jaw.

“When were you gonna tell me you weren’t taking the pills?” his dad had asked, sounding so tired it had made Stiles hurt for him.

He still hadn’t had a real answer, so he’d stuttered through an explanation about how he'd been planning to say _something_ but he was so nervous about it. In the back of his mind he’d known if he waited until his heat hit, his daddy would definitely find out the truth. But maybe he'd be so concerned with getting him through his heat that it wouldn’t matter as much. And maybe if he managed to get Derek and his dad together, his dad would be too happy to be disappointed in him.

It turned out his twin bed didn’t feel so little anymore with his daddy in it with him for the first time since his first heat, holding him close. Stiles had been bracing himself, waiting for his dad to be angry at him, but he’d seemed more sad than anything else. 

“I didn’t mean to make you worry,” he’d said quietly. “I’m really sorry.”

His daddy hadn’t said anything back, but he’d let Stiles kiss his cheek and squirm in as close as possible. Stiles was pretty sure that meant everything was okay, and he’d fallen asleep with his daddy right there with him, all solid and warm.

He still wishes Derek had stayed so he could help his dad feel better too. But according to the tracking app on his phone, the projected date of his next heat isn’t that far off. He won't be waiting long.

Derek, being Derek, is helping a fish and wildlife team tag geese when it happens.

Stiles starts feeling lightheaded towards the end of the day. He finally breaks down and calls Derek after Scott stares at him with huge eyes the entire bus ride home like he’s expecting Stiles to spontaneously combust.

He told Scott he's not on suppressants because they made him feel nauseous all the time, that maybe he'll try again when he's a little older. He doesn't like lying to his best friend, but this is one time where it's really the only option.

“I’ll be over as soon as I can,” Derek promises. “I really need to shower first, I’m surrounded by geese.”

It’s a testament to just how acclimated Stiles has become to Derek’s mountain man life that this sounds perfectly normal. 

He's pretty proud of himself for handling this so well--he’s getting better about being able to tell when his body starts throwing these signals at him. When he calls his dad at work to fill him in, he assures him they'll be okay until he's finished his shift. He still wants them both, but he also still feels bad for making his dad worry and he's not going to force him to leave work. It's just another hour or two; Derek can take good care of him in the meantime.

His heat’s still building, it’ll be a little while before he gets really desperate. Right now all he really needs is to have all of his clothes off and someone's body touching his. And this time they get to skip over the angst about condoms and his poor dad sitting downstairs. Everyone can jump straight to the fun part.

Derek teleports. He must. Stiles closes his eyes for a minute while he’s arching into his hand, then when he opens them he’s got Derek standing over him with damp hair and a worried look on his face.

“That was fast,” Stiles tells him, too giddy to be embarrassed. “Just FYI, I really wouldn't have minded if you showed up smelling like pine needles and geese.”

“It's a professional integrity thing.” Derek perches on the edge of the bed and checks his temperature with the back of one hand. “I didn't even _know_ I could shower that fast.”

Stiles pulls him down. “So let’s see how fast we can get you dirty again.”

Derek kisses him, politely does not snort at Stiles' line, and everything else just melts away.

It’s different this time. Stiles’ world is quickly becoming nothing but need, but it’s a good slow-burning need and not the scary, desperate kind that knocked him off his feet during his first two heats. And Derek is there for every second of it, mouthing his nipples and sliding his hands all over him and letting Stiles wrestle him out of his clothes without a fuss. He does tease little more than is strictly necessary, though, rubbing a finger against his hole and nipping his ear. “Do you need it now? Or do you think you can hold off until John gets home?”

Stiles wails and gouges his fingers into the pillows. He _does_ want it, but he’s never been fucked without his daddy holding his head, petting him and telling him how good he's being. Just a little longer and he can have his daddy's hand kneading the back of his neck while Derek nudges his cock inside him. “I can wait,” he whispers.

By the time his dad gets home, Stiles is in agony.

He’s stretched around Derek’s fingers and rutting his cock into Derek’s hand and still clutching at the pillows so hard he’s not sure how they’re still intact. In the time since Derek arrived, he’s already come twice and the ache for something inside him, something _bigger_ , has him panting and arching and biting his lips red to keep from begging to be knotted.

When he opens his mouth to choke out a hello, all that comes out is, “Oh, thank god, you can knot me now.”

His dad looks like someone just slapped him in the face. “Derek hasn’t-- _why_? Stiles, you’re gonna hurt yourself if you don’t get what your body needs.” He doesn't even make the connection with himself.

“It just didn't feel right,” Stiles says. “You’re part of this too.”

Now his dad looks like he’s about to reprimand him for not letting Derek take care of him, but he kisses Stiles' brow instead, crawling up onto the bed and turning Stiles onto his side so he's held tight between them. All it takes is a squeeze of his daddy's hand on the nape of his neck and Stiles melts for him, tucking his face against his chest.

Derek's been there for him the whole time, so it's not like he’s out of his mind, but his fever is high and he's soaking the sheets where Derek’s still fingering him. Having both of them touching him at the same time has him right on the edge already.

Derek didn't miss a beat when John joined them last time and he doesn't this time either. He's so good at what he does, Stiles thinks blearily. "Tell us what you need, baby," he urges. 

Stiles whimpers, arching himself back onto Derek's fingers and into his dad’s hand at the same time. "Need you inside me so bad, _please_." He doesn't know how the hell he’s has been holding back this long.

His daddy's scent makes it so much more intense, too, makes his cheeks burn and his body clench around Derek's fingers. It's going to take so much out of him just to keep from begging his daddy to knot him. He's _right there_.

His dad thumbs across his lips, breath hissing when Stiles whines and tries to suck the tip of it into his mouth, "We’ve got you, kiddo."

Stiles just moans brokenly because he's not full enough and they're both teasing him without even trying and his daddy still has _clothes_ on. If he had the coordination, he'd be pulling at them himself.

When his daddy helps Sitles hoist a leg over his hip and holds him through it while Derek slides into him from behind, he loses all coordination entirely.

He’s gritting _please, need it, please_ again and again and mouthing at his daddy's neck, not really conscious of what he's doing besides knowing that there's nice soft skin against his lips and he has to make sure it gets kissed. Stiles doesn't have all his faculties right now, but he really likes kisses and he needs his daddy to know how happy he is to have him there. He still has his face hidden against the side of his daddy's neck, so he can't see what’s happening, but he feels it when Derek stretches over his shoulder. When he glances up, it’s just in time to see him press his mouth to the hinge of his dad’s jaw.

The orgasm hits him like a freight train.

All it takes is Stiles moaning one little _love you, daddy_ against his throat while he comes and his daddy is moaning too. It cuts off suddenly, and it takes Stiles a minute to realize he’s being muffled by Derek's mouth, while Derek's hips judder to a stop and Stiles feels his knot swelling inside him.

Seeing his daddy and Derek together like this takes his breath away all over again. His daddy kisses like he's never going to get to do it again, like this is his last chance to have any kind of human contact. When Stiles really thinks about that, it makes him kind of sad. 

He's nudging up under his dad’s chin, starting to tug at his shirt with one clumsy hand, when Derek seems to decide he can get on board with that even though he has to tear himself away from kissing long enough to speak. "John, can you--let's get you comfortable this time, okay?"

Stiles nuzzles against his daddy’s chest, seeking out the little triangle of skin from where he managed to get a few buttons of his uniform shirt undone. He likes hearing the soft little gasps his daddy makes, like just Derek’s mouth on his is enough to make him dizzy. Stiles has thought a lot about what his daddy might do if Derek put his mouth on him. 

He doesn’t actually _mean_ to say anything, but Derek is still so full and hot inside him and all his daddy has are kisses, when it’s so obvious he needs more. Stiles is so pleasantly dazed his thoughts just fall straight out of his mouth, because it doesn’t occur to him to censor them. “He wants to touch you, daddy. Don’t you, Derek?” 

Derek doesn’t miss a beat. “I do, yeah. But I need you to help me, okay? Do you think you can give him a hand with that shirt?” 

Stiles is already nodding, his breathing shallow as Derek grazes his fingers against his daddy’s jaw. “John, is that okay with you?” There’s tension practically leaping off him, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Yeah,” his dad says finally, in a voice that sounds rough and sore, and Derek carefully leans over Stiles' shoulder to kiss him again. 

Stiles’ hands are shaking too badly to be much help undoing the rest of his dad’s buttons. He has to bite the inside his his cheek when his dad pulls back in order to get his shirt off, then sobs again when he moves back in to hug him close. Stiles has been telling himself that he can't ask him for anything tonight, he can't ask his daddy to knot him no matter how much he wants to. He doesn't want to make him uncomfortable, he wants to prove how fun his heats can be. But he's not even at the peak yet and he's already near tears every time he loses contact with his daddy. He might not be mentally capable of holding anything back and that’s the most terrifying thing of all.

Derek is somehow a perfect gentleman even while he's still tied with Stiles. He smooths his hands all over him just the way Stiles needs, murmurs little praises at him that make Stiles flush and squirm where he lies, fits their mouths together slow and easy when Stiles cranes his neck for kisses. 

Stiles scarcely notices when Derek reaches around him and undoes his dad’s belt one-handed.

His daddy's breathing is uneven and his face is tense, like this is something _scary_. It makes Stiles ache for him.

“Stiles’ heart is usually the loudest and fastest in the room,” Derek says softly. “But right now it’s yours. If you’d rather not--”

And as Stiles watches, his daddy reaches right past him to catch his fingers in Derek’s hair and pull him into a kiss.

Derek’s knot has gone down enough for him to slip out of Stiles, but he doesn’t do it right away. Stiles is vaguely aware of Derek's arms cinching around him good and hard, Derek kissing his face and whispering _it's okay, I'm right here, we're still right here, is it okay if I..._ and not moving until Stiles manages to make himself nod.

He can handle this, watching them together and maybe fingering himself to take the edge off. If he really needs anything more, Derek and his daddy will drop everything to help. It's a small sacrifice to make sure his daddy is taken care of. Stiles is getting better about distinguishing between wants and needs. 

It still takes every scrap of willpower not to whimper when Derek isn't inside him anymore, but he manages. He needs to be _good_ or else his daddy will worry and his daddy is worried about so much already. Derek slides over Stiles, moving his daddy onto his back and settling on top of him.

Derek puts a hand on his daddy’s chest to try and soothe him and his daddy just pulls him in like he's drowning. It takes Stiles’ breath away, and then it gets punched out of his lungs all over again when he hears his daddy grit, “ _sorry_ ,” against Derek's cheek in the same tortured voice as before. “you need to take care of him, you shouldn't be--"

This time, Derek’s the one to cut off the conversation with a kiss. Even though Stiles’ heat-muggy eyes, there’s no mistaking the way his daddy melts into it, the way he’s still trying to lean into it when Derek draws back and says, "I can do both."

Stiles really wants to fling himself over both of them and hold them until his arms give out, but he gets that this probably isn't the time. He has to settle for kissing blindly along Derek's arm. "Dad, everything's fine, I'm okay, we just need you to be okay too."

Derek is so, _so_ good at what he does, but he's also a genuinely sweet guy too; Stiles would be an asshole to try and keep him all to himself. Stiles also feels like his daddy needs Derek more, in a lot of ways.

Stiles bits his lips until they sting while Derek helps his daddy finish undressing and they spend a long time just kissing and learning how their bodies fit together. Or at least it _seems_ like a long time to Stiles. This is such a huge deal and he's trying to be patient instead of selfish, but he’s so needy right now.

Then Derek starts mouthing his way down his daddy's middle and his whole world freezes. This is _actually happening_. The look on his daddy’s face alone makes Stiles whimper and rut his cock against the blankets.

“Do you like it, daddy?” he blurts out, not even caring how breathy and desperate he sounds. “Does it feel good?” He's so happy for his daddy and so excited about what Derek's doing for him, he doesn't have time to feel jealous. But he still can't last more than a minute without touching or kissing one of them, so he ends up squirming up to his side and nosing against his daddy’s cheek. "Dad, are you okay?"

“ _Yeah_ ,” his daddy breathes, broke, as Derek slides his mouth over his cock. The sight of it is almost enough to distract Stiles from how empty he feels. He's never gotten to see his daddy really fall apart like this, and now he’s gripping at Derek’s hair and thrusting up into his mouth. And Stiles is right there to hold him through it and watch the way he grips at Derek's hair and turns his head against the pillow. He can hear Derek groaning for it just the way he does when he goes down on _him_. It makes him shiver, makes him wonder if they taste the same. 

His daddy’s face is all screwed up like he's scared or angry but this time Stiles knows better. This is his dad finally letting himself enjoy something, and if that makes Stiles' throat get a little tight, he can blame it on his hormones. The sounds his daddy's making are the greatest Stiles has ever heard, like he's completely coming apart, like he can't believe how good it feels.

Stiles can sympathize with that. He can _really_ sympathize with that. “It’s okay,” he promises, face buried against his daddy’s neck, trying to say the things he knows Derek would if his mouth wasn't otherwise occupied. Stiles isn’t quite as good at speech when he's so worked up, though, so he’s not capable of much beyond whispering _daddy, daddy, daddy_ over and over, ending on a little whimper each time. 

Derek, amazing multitasker that he is, finds Stiles' hand and threads their fingers together. Stiles really meant it when he asked if they could keep him.

He's rutting against his daddy's hip almost absently, just pure mindless friction-seeking, and then his daddy's breath catches and he throws his head back and _groans_ , whole body going tense, half-arched off the bed, and Stiles feels a wave of arousal course through him when he realizes his daddy is flooding Derek's mouth with come.

It takes all his mental effort not to spontaneously melt into a puddle on the spot, but he _does_ manage a pleased little, "Told you so," between stringing hot little kisses along his daddy’s jaw.

He has the _best_ plans. Why is this so hard to believe?

His daddy just lets out this long, pleased sigh and brings a hand up to cradle his head. His eyes are heavy and there’s a dazed look on his face. Stiles can relate to _that_ too, very well. Derek and his skill set are a force to be reckoned with.

Even though he isn't going to deliberately take advantage of his daddy’s state, he's not going to object when his daddy leans into his kisses either. And when Derek lazily stretches out over his daddy to kiss him too, Stiles is right there watching it happen, his own mouth wide open. Not just because it's hot as hell, but also because his daddy doesn't flinch or hesitate at all: he slides one of his hands into Derek's hair again and actually kisses him back

Seeing his daddy like this is just throwing fuel on the fire. Last time, John didn't take anything off until Stiles was sleeping. They _did_ shower together to clean him off, but that was just necessity since Stiles was a mess and needed to be taken care of. He knows it happened, but at the time he wasn't really processing anything. He just remembers feeling happy and taken care of and then being tucked into bed. 

This time, though, his daddy is letting him see and feel a lot more. Just being pressed against him is new and Stiles has been struggling not to drown. He's trying to subtly move a hand between his legs and just tease a fingertip against his hole even though the last thing he wants to do is spoil the moment, The ache is just so bad now, and his body opens right up for it and he has to bite down hard on his lip not to wail.

His daddy notices, of course. “Stiles, what’s the matter?” 

The tenuous remains of Stiles’ self-control fly out the window when his daddy strokes a hand down Stiles’ back. "I...I need something inside me."

It feels like his face is only a few degrees shy of setting the pillowcase on fire, but it doesn't even occur to him to lie or even try and downplay it. His own fingers aren't enough and there's slickness all over his inner thighs and he just _needs_.

 

* * *

 

* * *

John manages to get through most days without letting himself think about certain things. It’s a list that’s been getting steadily longer over the past few months.

But lying here, cradling Stiles while Derek rocks against him from behind, John forgets what he’s not supposed to be thinking about.

He could wait until Derek's knotted him again, until Stiles is dripping come and still open and ready, and then just slip right into him. It would be so easy, and given the state he’s in Stiles would gasp and spread his legs and plead for more without hesitation. His face is burning, but that’s easy to pass off as being drunk on a combination of heat pheromones and post-orgasmic bliss, not on Stiles' body trembling against him and his hot little cheek pressing right over John’s heart.

Then Derek reaches for him over Stiles' skinny shoulder and John loses track of everything all over again.

He doesn't want to be selfish and take any of Derek's attention away from Stiles tonight, but he does love Derek's kisses. Even though it's just kissing, Derek is _very_ thorough about it. He puts his whole body into it, cupping John’s jaw, sliding his fingers into his hair, grazing his nails against his scalp. John thinks of what he'd be capable of if he wasn't being mindful of Stiles curled up between them, remembers that time on the couch and how easily he'd forgotten everything except the feel of Derek’s mouth on his, and he knows he’s groaning and probably clutching Derek too tightly but he can’t stop. 

Derek must be enjoying himself too, since he lets out a pleased little growl. Stiles isn’t the only one who has a thing for Derek letting his wolf side out from under wraps. While he's tied to Stiles, Derek has a tendency to let his eyes go red and his low, soothing words always have the hint of a rasp to them. It takes John’s breath away.

Stiles is still squirming between them, trying to seek out friction. John’s been blindly petting over him all this time and he forces his mouth away from Derek’s so he can nudge it against Stiles' ear. “It’s okay, we’ve got you, daddy’s got you.” 

It’s supposed to be soothing, but just seems to be riling Stiles up even more. John is still coming back down to earth--Derek’s mouth is amazing to begin with and it’s been a long time since John’s had anyone pay him that kind of close attention--but he feels guilty for not focusing fully on Stiles anyway. “Shh, kiddo, we’re right here.”

He runs his hand down Stiles' back and his kid arches under him, trying to urge his touch lower. “ _Please_ , daddy, just a finger.” 

John kisses his forehead but Derek is the one who gives him exactly what he needs. Derek’s already come in him once, and he must be so wet that Derek’s fingers just slide right back in because he throws his head back and _sobs_. He’s shaking so hard it makes John’s stomach go jagged with panic; he can hear Derek hiss in sympathy at Stiles’ back. 

He only means to kiss Stiles’ head again, to murmur praises in his ear and hopefully help ease him back down to earth. The next thing he knows, Stiles’ lips are on his and John’s moaning so loudly he might be embarrassed under any other circumstances. 

Stiles’ mouth is hot and soft and he tastes delicious and _that’s_ the tipping point for John. He’s been wanting to learn what his boy tastes like for so long. Stiles is licking into him with the greediness of youth, making hungry little noises like he can’t get enough of it, then gasping when another of Derek’s fingers pushes into him, stretches him open just the way he needs. 

His body is begging for more stimulation, John doesn’t know how he’s withstanding the urge to turn on his belly and be knotted again. Derek’s voice is a hot, heat-blurred groan. “Stiles, are you doing okay?”

There’s a deep blush cresting Stiles' cheeks when he breaks away from John and he’s beaming so intensely John could almost swear there’s an actual glow about him. “Mm-hm, ’s good, _really_ good.” Then, instead of turning onto his stomach the way John expects him to, he’s glancing over his shoulder and biting his lip. “Derek...do you like this too?” 

Derek looks as surprised as John’s ever seen him. “I--sometimes.”

Stiles is still addressing Derek, but he’s looking John straight in the eye now. “I bet daddy could make you feel good, too?” He twists around to nuzzle Derek’s cheek, “Do you want him in you?”

And Derek looks at John with blazing red eyes and growls, _"Yeah,"_ all low and wrecked-sounding. John never would have imagined this kind of response, even though he’s wondered just what Derek likes for himself as opposed to what he likes for the sake of the omegas he sees.

Stiles is kissing along his cheeks and chin, humming to him happily. “See? He wants you in him so much, daddy. He’s been working really hard for us, we need to look after him too.” And even though Stiles' nipples are hard peaks against John’s chest and his slick little cock is leaking against his thigh, John manages to untangle himself from him. 

There’s still a bottle of lubricant left over from Stiles' last heat. The second Stiles sees John picking it up, he shifts onto his back so he can hold Derek against him. For his part, Derek lets out a low groan when John rubs between his shoulders, right over the stark ink of his tattoo, and bluntly says, “Whatever you need, I’ll do it. I just need to know if you’ve done this before.”

“I’d--I’d use my fingers sometimes, just so I’d know what omegas liked. And, um, sometimes I’d have a heat match whose heat went on too long and they needed to take the edge off. So if they were too sore to...I’d...only a few times, but...”

Of course he has. Anything for a client. John gives a wry quirk of his mouth. 

It’s occurred to John before that Derek isn't really used to letting himself be taken care of. His side job kind of requires the opposite. And he's _good_ at that, it's why it's so easy for him to be with John and Stiles, but it makes John wonder if he’s ever really thought about needing it himself.

Even now, Derek still has two fingers pressed inside Stiles, doing something that’s making him writhe and beg for more in a voice that's all rawness and desperation. Derek's already knotted him once and Stiles is still so wet from it, dripping both Derek's come and his own slickness. The scent of him is making John dizzy; he can’t even fathom how Derek, with the acuity of his werewolf senses, is even functioning right now. 

“So you’ve done it because you felt like you should,” John says. “But do you actually _want_ this?”

Derek looks him right in the eye and nods.

John could subject him to the best kind of torture this way. He could slowly work his fingers in him while he was buried deep inside Stiles, so he kept coming and coming and filling Stiles up while he knotted him nice and tight. But one thing none of them need at this juncture is torture of any kind.

Somehow, Stiles manages to focus on something other than how ferociously his heat is burning through him. His skinny hips are still rolling steadily, working himself on Derek’s fingers, and he sounds so young and earnest when he buries kisses in Derek’s hair and mumbles, “He’ll be nice and slow and he'll feel so amazing in you, Derek, I _swear_.” 

“Anything you need,” John says again, a little surprised at how steady he sounds, and feels the warmth of Derek’s flush against his lips when he kisses his cheek.

It’s transparently obvious Stiles doesn’t want Derek to regret his decision. He keeps petting his hair and making sure John’s using enough lube. It’s not micromanaging, John understands that much; he just wants everything to be as good for Derek as it is for him. 

John is just as gentle, he works Derek open as carefully as he can and keeps smoothing down his back. "Doing okay?”

Derek’s been steadily finger-fucking Stiles all the while, which John can’t help being impressed with. The second John kisses his shoulder and eases a second finger into him, though, all his powers of multitasking seem to fly out the window.

He freezes and gasps and Stiles' arms are around him in an instant, guiding his head down against one of his own shoulders. "Dad, go easy, we need to take care of him."

If anyone is the caretaker in this relationship, it's Stiles. He's been looking after John for years and he hasn’t missed a beat bringing Derek into the equation. With Derek leaning his head on his shoulder, his ear is close enough for Stiles to give it a nip. "Hey, c’mon, look at me. Are you all right? How does it feel?"

Derek breathes hard a few times, in and out. John thinks he’s about to have a panic attack and his heart leaps into his throat for a second before he realizes Derek is just trying to ground himself enough to speak without stuttering. "Feels really good, baby," he breathes, and Stiles grins into his hair. 

And John is kissing Derek's nape while Stiles pets through his hair, murmuring reassurances to him as best he can with his mind still clouded by his heat. He's not to the point where the need is overwhelming--John reckons he's getting better about gauging how much his body needs and how soon it's going to need more--so he has enough clarity to scratch his nails along Derek's scalp and whisper, "Can you knot me now? I just just wanna make sure you get what you need too." 

If John wasn’t already losing his mind, this would probably be the tipping point. He slides his other hand between Derek’s thighs, relishing the way he groans when John strokes along the length of his cock. The angle is too awkward to allow for it, but he wishes he could help Derek guide himself into Stiles a second time. 

It makes him grit his teeth as Derek clenches even tighter around his fingers, trying to fuck himself back on them even as he’s easing himself into Stiles. John can’t help remembering how this felt when it was _Stiles_ spreading his legs and whimpering for more, how he could hardly even breathe he needed John inside him so badly. 

And when Derek cranes his neck to catch him in a kiss, there’s no missing it when he whispers, “You can knot me too, I can handle it.” 

John bites down on a moan, trying to gather his wits before he speaks. "Do you-- I mean, we have condoms, if you'd rather. I'm… I'm shooting blanks, but if you don't want the mess--"

He almost laughs when Derek and Stiles simultaneously say, " _No,_ " and then Derek does laugh, a low, warm rumble against Stiles' neck.

"No condom," he says, and he sounds so sure, it takes John's breath away.

He knows he’s speaking when he slides inside Derek, mindlessly murmuring to them both about how well they’re doing, reminding himself over and over that he has to go slowly with Derek, that Derek doesn't have a hormonal imperative making him crazy for this. It takes him a moment to realize Stiles is still speaking too, then a few moments more to register the things he’s saying.

He tells himself Stiles is just soothing Derek the way John’s been all along. Just telling him how good he feels inside him, asking him if he feels good too, if he needs to stop. This is a pretty new situation for Derek; Stiles could merely be showing concern. 

So when Stiles asks if he feels full, if daddy feels big inside him, he's really just making sure Derek isn't hurting. 

And when Derek growls, _yeah, really big, feels so good, baby_ , Stiles is just moaning because he likes Derek's voice like that, likes being called baby, likes it when Derek is enjoying himself. It's nothing to do with imagining how it must feel to be stretched around John’s cock. 

And when Stiles asks for it harder, it's a coincidence that John is the one who thrusts, and it's just the chain reaction that makes Stiles sob, makes him clench around Derek's cock, makes him sweat and drip and cry.

Stiles is still on his back with Derek between his legs and John behind Derek, so he can see both of them even though John spends most of his time with his face pressed against Derek's nape. It isn’t just because it's hard for him to acknowledge everything that's happening here, it's just been so _long_ since he felt this close to another person. Derek, forever in comfort mode, is managing to soothe them both, even now. John's self-control is the result of lifelong practice; he’s always has his emotions close to the surface just like Stiles, but Derek stabilizes him, both of them. 

So when John trembles--surely Derek knows that motion, he's felt it under him so many times, from so many omegas close to the breaking point in desperation--he tilts his head back and kisses him, whispers into his mouth. “ _Breathe, keep breathing, you're okay, you're so good_.”

It's really no different from what John’s heard him say to Stiles, the same tone, the same soothing hand on his neck. Derek kisses him again, and John breaks away on a gasp because Stiles has reached up and threaded his fingers into his hair. When John looks down, Stiles is staring straight up at him from over Derek’s shoulder, eyes glazed and shining with tears of overstimulation.

"Feels so _good_ , daddy," Stiles whimpers, and John groans like a dying man.

Derek must know he's just an intermediary right now, but he doesn't seem to mind. He nuzzles at Stiles' neck and lets him paw at John, because it’s painfully obvious Stiles needs this so fucking badly. And, while John’s more guarded, he doubts anyone could miss how much he needs it too.

He doesn’t know which of them comes first. Everything is effortlessly good, a smooth grind of bodies against bodies. John mouths the salt-sharp loops and arches of Derek’s tattoo over and over, and Stiles’ skinny little fingers stay tangled in his hair all the while. When he feels his knot beginning to swell, it drags a shaky gasp out of Derek that makes John groan long and low against his nape. His nails bite into Derek’s hips from the effort of holding himself back from thrusting into him as hard and deep as possible. 

When John’s vision clears, Stiles doesn’t look all that comfortable but he has the most beatific smile on his face.

“Can you even breathe?” John asks. “Is everything okay?”

Stiles’ smile gets a bit wider. “Everything’s _great_.”

They doze for a little while, until they’re able to disengage and sprawl out. John is only distantly aware of Derek maneuvering his way into the middle, the better to keep an eye on them both.

His hand is cool against John’s cheek. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I’m assuming,” Derek says delicately, “you hadn’t done that for a while. It can take a lot out of you. I’m just checking in.”

It’s the sort of borderline invasive yet surprisingly touching thing John doubts anyone but Derek could ask with the right degree of sensitivity. For that alone, John has to take advantage of being face to face with him and ease their mouths together for a few long seconds. 

“The last time was a few years ago,” he admits when they draw apart, “and...yeah, you’re right, but I’m fine.”

That makes Stiles, suddenly wide awake, snap his head up from the pillows. "With _who_?" he demands.

John doesn’t even have a chance to hide the abashed look on his face.

Stiles gapes. "Oh my god, that alpha with the weird mustache? You told me you weren't going to see him again. _Dad_." 

“Hey,” John protests automatically. “His mustache wasn't _weird_ and technically I _didn't_ see him again. How the hell do you even remember this? You were about ten years old.”

Stiles looks wounded. “I always remember these things.”

John shouldn’t have bothered asking. Even before his first heat, Stiles was always possessive of him. He used to terrorize his babysitters when John decided to start braving the dating scene. There were only so many alphas who have a preference for other alphas, and only so many of _those_ John would consider giving a chance. He knew he had to settle for what he could get, but no one ever met Stiles' standards. By now, Stiles is old enough to realize this, even though he probably finds it pretty sad. John can’t exactly fault him for that, though.

The more he thinks about it, the clearer it becomes: Derek is exactly what both of them needed.

Derek is the one who takes Stiles’ disgruntled face in his hands and reminds him that he's never been lonely for years at a time, he's never had to settle for "good enough" just to help himself try to move on, and John has.

Stiles looks like he’s on the verge of pouting, but he acquiesces with a sigh. "I don't want you to be lonely," he mutters at last. 

It cuts John to the quick. His kid has always tried so hard to be there for him. He never wants Stiles to think he isn’t enough.

“I’m not,” John tells him, gathering him up in his arms and breathing in the warm, sweet scent of both him and Derek. “I promise, I’m not.”

**Author's Note:**

> Regarding the gratuitous barebacking: so my headcanon here is that John had a vasectomy after Claudia died since he decided she and Stiles were the only family he'd ever need. They'd had to try so hard to even have Stiles to begin with and he just couldn't see himself going through that again. 
> 
> But really it's just an excuse for more bodily fluids. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
